


The End Game (A Skystuck Splurge)

by Ange_Ampoule



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, Homestuck
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-25
Updated: 2017-08-25
Packaged: 2018-12-19 21:44:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11906793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ange_Ampoule/pseuds/Ange_Ampoule
Summary: Homestuck? In MY Skyrim? It's more likely than you think.





	The End Game (A Skystuck Splurge)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks Grace. Enjoy.

Like a moderately aged fan spinning at an average pace all day, John Egbert had a moderate knowledge of paths and roads he’d already trekked. There weren’t many left that he hadn’t touched in his past five years of travelling; he liked to branch out occasionally to shake up his otherwise uneventful day, and to give himself something to look forward to other than sore feet and a rumbling stomach. His boots had seen yards of mud and buckets of snow, and it showed; his toes were almost visible through the worn leather. He scrunched his nose at the thought of getting a new pair; boots these days costed more than he cared for. He sighed and readjusted the weight of his pack, moving his large Warhammer and lute to be carefully cradled between his shoulder blades. He wondered how much a Daedric weapon would sell for, and who would be willing to buy such an item; after all, it’s not like he wanted the stupid hammer, and it’s not his fault that the Jarl of Markarth isn’t a fan of his remix of “The Dragonborn Comes”. Still, he supposed, he should be grateful that he was bribed to silence instead of being stabbed into it.

  
John admired the plains of Whiterun; they were wide and full of life and possibility, equal parts amazing and terrifying. The rolling hills had come to be his favorite places to rest on in his travels, and he’d managed to befriend a giant or two with small trades of meat and mead for any bits of cloth they had. He wasn’t very good at sewing, but the skill he had was just enough to get a makeshift net together for catching fish; he didn’t understand why fishermen didn’t use cloth instead of netting with how well it worked. Maybe he was just lucky, he didn’t care; it seemed that with every pass of Whiterun, his net got bigger and more intricate. He smiled as a breeze tugged at his hair; it was getting a little unruly, but he liked the wild look it gave him. It made him look cool.

  
Today was different; he could feel it in his bones. Maybe it was the sign pointing to Rorikstead that changed it, or the sight of an inn in the distance that did it. Whatever it was, it was there, and it was strong, like an Orc bending an iron sword; John decided right then and there that he’d pay so much money to see that. He entered the village quietly, shrinking into himself as he realized that, once again, his hammer was drawing attention. Why did everyone have to focus on that? Why couldn’t they understand that staring was rude? He groaned to himself; this was going to be weird.

  
The interior of the inn wasn’t so much homey as it was creepy; there were deer butts mounted all over the walls. The proprietor of the place was cleaning glasses behind the bar counter; his hair was a bright orange, and his sharp features were sprinkled with freckles. And gods, was he tall; John had to gulp down the urge to use a meek voice when speaking to him.

  
“H-hewwo.” John said clearly, his voice crack only barely noticeable above the sudden volume he forced out. The bartender raised an eyebrow, and John decided that today was a good day to be struck down by literally any god.

  
\---

  
Dave stared, the inn’s patrons falling silent with him. He couldn’t believe what he just heard.

  
“What the actual fuck?” He said, his voice flat and echoing in the silent building. His brother shot him a look and continued to clean the used glasses in front of him; Dave could tell he was trying his best not to murder the guy right then and there, though from the sight of him, the new guy sure did look like he wanted to be murdered.

  
“Uh…can I help you?” Dave’s brother asked, his nose wrinkling. The stranger coughed, trying to seem like it was no big deal that he had just blown his cover as The Biggest Fucking Loser in Tamriel. Dave heard him ask for food, to which his brother complied after being paid first. Then he made a beeline straight for Dave, and he knew that glint in his brother’s eye; his stomach dropped.  
“C’mon, bro, not this shit again.” He begged. His brother clapped a hand on his shoulder.

  
“Oh you know you’re doing that shit again, kid. Look at him. He has a Daedric Warhammer. He could teach you how to be a real man instead of you just lounging around and bitching every day. I’m gonna go ask him how much it would take to get you out of here.” Dave could practically see his brother’s eyes change into gold coins at the prospect of getting him out into the world. Dave stared at his table and said nothing, knowing it wouldn’t help; he’d been sold to several “adventurers” before this as a servant or squire, and he never lasted more than a week before he was returned and the money refunded. It wasn’t his fault he hated skeletons, not really; it didn’t seem natural that they fucking walked, so of course his first reaction would be to scream obscenities. He never meant to give his position away, though, and that is why he never lasted long; Dave was smart, but stealthy he was not.

  
He watched as his brother made his way to the stranger and talked with him; he could tell this was a hard sell, but after a few tense minutes he watched him pass a bag of gold to the stranger, who stood and shook his hand. Great, Dave thought, a new asshole to deal with. He pursed his lips and rephrased the sentence to himself, unhappy with how gay that sounded, but unable to deny how perfectly funny it was. He sighed and raked his fingers through his hair, quickly realizing how greasy it was; at least it made him look cool slicked back like that.

  
The stranger stood after a few minutes and waved him over. Dave reluctantly stood and dragged his feet to his new “leader”; the kid didn’t seem much older than he was, Dave realized. His eyes narrowed. They’re going to die.

  
“Hi, David! My name’s John; I’ve been paid to take you with me so I hope you don’t mind carrying some stuff for me.” God, his smile was fucking dorky. It didn’t help that a few of his teeth were chipped. Dave shot him a mirroring smile, empty inside at the prospect of carrying around this dickhead’s crap but unable to actually say no. Dave stiffly nodded and held his hands out. John scratched at his head and awkwardly laughed. “Wow, you uh. You don’t talk much. Ok, that’s cool.” He passed Dave a very small package and pulled his own pack onto himself. Dave stared at the small package for a moment before putting it in his own pack; he wasn’t about to bitch about carrying one tiny thing. In fact, he was kind of grateful; he was expecting John to be a total asshole and give him a ton of useless shit to lug around. They waved goodbye to Dave’s brother, who only gave a curt nod and a pointed look that seemed to bore into Dave’s skull. He practically pushed John out of the way to leave first, and the latter seemed unfazed.

  
\---

  
John breathed in deeply, letting out a noisy exhale; David flinched. They’d been on the road for hours now, and David hadn’t said a word. John wouldn’t mind if he wasn’t so bored; they were making their way to Solitude, and that meant there wasn’t much to look at except acres of trees. He pursed his lips and started to blow air out; his companion stiffened. John smiled and did it louder.  
“I’m bored, man. Talk to me or I’m gonna keep doing this.” John gave him a very soft elbow in the arm and blew more air out to make a point.

  
“Dude. Cut that shit out.” David hissed, giving him a look. John just shrugged and kept on smiling.

  
“There he is. Why’re you so quiet? I don’t bite, and you look like you’ve seen some cool stuff.” John stopped walking and offered his hand. “Here, let me properly introduce myself to start this off; I’m John Egbert, and I’m a bard...or at least, I’m trying to be. It’s harder than it looks.” He weakly chuckled but kept his hand out, waiting. David raised an eyebrow so high John thought it was going to fall off his face.

  
“You’re…a bard? You’re not an adventurer or a mercenary or somebody just looking to get killed?” David asked, his tone dripping with disbelief. John blushed slightly and dropped his hand, stuffing it in his pocket.

  
“Well, yeah! Couldn’t you tell by my lute? I thought I was wearing it pretty prominently…” John reached around and pulled his lute from behind the hammer, presenting it proudly. David scoffed.

“Dude. Nobody would think you’re a bard with that monstrosity covering it.” He pointed to the hammer, and John sighed, seeing his mistake. “You realize my brother only offered to let you have me around as a squire or something, right? This might seriously piss him off if he hears I’m traveling with some lute-playing nerd.”

  
John stiffened. “Excuse you, I’m not a nerd, thanks. If it bothers you that much, you don’t have to stay, you know.” He dug in his pockets and procured the bag of gold David’s brother gave him; he held it out expectantly. “You’re free to leave and go home, David. I’m not going to keep you here.”

  
David stood still, looking at the bag with disgust. He looked at John, and his expression softened. He shook his head. “Listen, I…I appreciate the offer, but I’m not fucking going back there. My brother’s a real piece of…well, he sucks.” He rubbed the back of his neck, and John saw a fresh pink scar peek out of his long-sleeved shirt; he thought better of asking. David heaved a heavy sigh and bit his lip. “I’m ok with going with you, but we need to make sure my brother doesn’t catch wind of this. We need to lay low and be smart about this, got it?”

  
“Got it, buddy.” John broke out into a huge smile, and this time David laughed. He pocketed the bag of gold and excitedly straightened his pack. “Alright! Let’s do this. Time to see if Elisif likes remixes.” David shot him a bewildered look, smiling like he just scored a jackpot. He clapped a hand on John’s shoulder as they started walking again, the two of them falling quickly into sync.

  
“By the way, call me Dave.”


End file.
